A Child of Ephemerality
by Mr Mojo is Risin
Summary: <html><head></head>AU. It wasn't till after Aragorn's death did Arwen realize how much she truly desired mortality and the death it would bring. One-shot; AU! - Arwen's vision scene never happened.</html>


_FO 120, the Fourth Age  
><em>_The House of Kings, _

Elvish immortality had never been more of a harrowing sadness upon Arwen, a weight that laden her with the horrors of everlasting loneliness and a fate she only wished to deceive. An excruciating burden much like the one that she carried on her heart ever since the moment had come. The moment that she had known, from the beginning, was bound to come one day: the inexorable death of Aragorn II Elessar. She now desired mortality more than ever, because, without him, she was bare of grace. She was now misery itself: condemned to walk Middle-earth alone for the eternity she had remaining The gaping hole that was supposed to be her elvish heart - one's centre - had been torn apart; hung, drawn and quartered again and again and again till she became so very empty that she forgot how to feel. Eyes dark with sorrow, lips drawn: nothing matter to the Queen of Arnor and Gondor anymore as she blinked back tears once again. Aragorn was as still and ailing as ever, flesh as waxen as his hair, no longer dark but hued with ivory now he was without the colour pigments of his youth. Still, for his wife, he was as fair of face as the one she fell in love with, centuries ago. There was still the lingering aura of the younger Aragorn with ever-present determination and valour that he spent his life portraying, the true makings of the hero he had been crowned King Elessar Telecontar for. As she gazed at his lifeless face, she forever saw the gallant warrior he had been - the warrior he still was, even in death - that was not prepared to evanescent just yet. Though he was gone, his spirit and legacy would remain for all of Arnor and Gondor's perpetuity. A tale of a King whom had truly prevailed his place on the throne. The leader of a fellowship - the Fellowship of the Ring - and the leader of battles with even the most vicious of enemy. Yet, no matter the foe, Aragorn would always come home with an army fatigued but alive. He would always come home to his kingdom, victoriously self-effacing. A destiny he had fulfilled in his human lifetime, but that lifetime had reached its end.

As she closed her eyes, tender and tainted red from the tears she had cried earlier, Arwen found that she mindlessly evoked their very first meeting, in which had been love at first sight. The second memory she greeted was that of the plighting of their troth on Cerin Amroth thirty years later and finally of a younger Aragorn; one with hair hued bistre rather than white, still clad in chain mail so shielding and armed with both Andúril and one's own valour. She didn't want to lose the treasured reflections of their life together, reflections so dear to her. It was all she had left of him, an illustration of beautiful imagery she wanted nothing more than to relive, but when she did open her ceil irises to only be greeted with the sight of the deceased King of the Reunited Kingdoms, she was greeted with the sensation of tears once more. Aragorn wasn't coming back, not even for his Queen.

He had finally departed, left for another life, a journey that, without a doubt, would be just as perilous as the one the Ring's fellowship had taken him on, now that he was alone at least, with neither his friends, his army or his Evenstar to accompany him. Aragorn wouldn't be frightened, but Arwen could only imagine how lonely death must be, until you finally catch sight of your beloved ones, wandering the heavenly stars above. Though the afterlife must be a beautiful thing if any of the stories were true, alas, it was still a difficult task for Arwen to comprehend the fact that Estel was leaving her alone with only their children as reminders of the late King. Though it was a distressing matter, the last thing Arwen could do was blame him for leaving them. While she could escape death from old-age, he could not. He had grown old like all Men did at some point or another, for he was of no elven heritage like his wife was. Henceforth, while his green-grey eyes grew darker with the sight of ceaseless slaughter that he encountered every time he battled for his kingdom and his kind, and as he withered and wilted a little more with every day, Arwen's youth still lingered as it had done the first time he had seen her fair and pale face. Thirty years went by and Arwen finally reciprocated his affection for her and, at Cerin Amroth, amidst the yellow of Elanor, they plighted their troth and a thousand 'forever yours' were traded. Forever for Arwen, but for Aragorn the same rules did not apply.

Arwen subsided to the tears that had been threatening to fall as she mulled over the tragedy that had left not only her and their children distraught, but also the people of Arnor and Gondor. They admired their ruler just as anyone else within the walls did. So, still lost deep in the haze of thought, with a tender velocity did the tears begin to gather at the gentle curve of her chin, contrasting with her isabelline complexion and elvish features. She wished for mortality so greatly now it pained her. Furthermore, she wished for death, so she could once more be reunite with her now lifeless husband, once again. She did not want to live the life of a widow, with his face haunting her dreams every night. Yet she did not want to move on, forget him, for he had been hers for so long. All she really wished to do, what she wished so greatly, was to hear his beating heart drumming a cadence that would show he was still alive, elsewhere, outside the boundaries of Middle-earth. She wondered what death would be like - an escapism. Was it peaceful? Did it hurt? It was an unorthodox thought for an elf, of course. Granted immortality, death was never a subject matter conversed by any elves of any kind; it was futile, but Arwen wanted nothing more to flee from the horrors of what had now become in her reality. She had a kingdom to rule, a reunited one at that, but suddenly, all hope seemed lost without their King to reign, too. _Her _king.

One hundred and twenty two years of royal marriage alone, she had borne them their kin, one whom would resume Aragorn's rule. Eldarion would become the King now and Arwen had all faith in her son. She believed he would become a noble ruler of the kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor, just like his father had been. She had endless faithfulness in Eldarion; faith that would never cease, whether she continued to live in the land of Middle-earth with her children and her kingdom at her feet, or chose the place where Aragorn walked - wherever that was. Though she did not know of that place yet, anywhere with Aragorn would leave her content. To be reunited with Estel in another life, scaling the welkin rings of heaven with him. She lusted for mortality now so greatly that it burnt at her soul. Mortality and the death that would soon come with it - an inevitable death. The desire for it grew even more so than when she realized Aragorn was finally gone. King Elessar Telcontar was dead.

"_I would rather spend one lifetime with you than face all the Ages of this world alone."_

The words spoken so longer ago seemed so fitting now, but the meaning behind them was no longer deemed necessary. They had experienced that one lifetime, and it was all she ever needed to make her final decision of whether she would continue to live or to die in order to be at rest with her beloved. Her words to him were spoken so long ago but the meaning and emotion behind them was still as strong as it was the day she had told him that she reciprocated his love for her. And though he had promised to spend that one lifetime with her, one hundred and twenty two years of reign over Arnor and Gondor, and one hundred and twenty two years of royal marriage, she felt like she was back at the beginning once more. The beginning in which she did not know Aragorn's name. A forlorn and bleak beginning for it was a beginning without Estel by her side.

She was alone.

"_Immortality - a fate worse than death."_

Edgar A. Shoaff

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><p><strong>AN: Where she forsakes her immortality or not for Aragorn is completely up to you.**

**Anything you would like me to improve? Drop me a review and let me, please! :)**


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